


If I Didn't Care

by 222Ravens



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-28
Updated: 2013-02-28
Packaged: 2017-12-03 20:36:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/702383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/222Ravens/pseuds/222Ravens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam catches Dean singing along to corny music again.</p><p>This time, though, he clues in as to why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Didn't Care

**Author's Note:**

> With apologies to the Ink Spots.
> 
> I was listening to the Amy Adams/Lee Pace cover of the titular song and was attacked by wild Destiel feels.
> 
> This is the result.
> 
> Comments and critiques, as always, will receive hugs and free rock salt.

They are sitting in the Batcave, early in the evening. Sam’s still looking at all of the books, trying to make sense of the cataloguing system and figure out what they have.

 

Dean has made dinner again, which is great, even if he keeps making Sam do the dishes. Sam’s cooking skills are… kind of limited, though. He’s surprised at how good it was, and the fact that Dean actually has used some _vegetables. No matter how apparently "badass these weird tomatoes are"... Sam’s just happy it isn’t all burgers._

 

He looks over at his brother, who has been sorting out the record collection left behind. One of the Men of Letters must have been a big music buff, because there are tons of them. There was a bit of pretty early rock ’n roll, but it was largely slower stuff, jazz and the like.

 

“You seem to be liking the music even more than the dead-guy robes.” Sam remarks, and Dean turns to grin at him. 

 

“Heck yeah! Some of this stuff is awesome. Like, the _original_ Travelling Riverside Blues. The Robert Johnson version. It’s awesome. Dude had good taste.” Dean picks up another record from the pile. He stares at it for a moment, then shrugs and puts it on.

 

Sam shakes his head, smiling back, then turns to the book again as the music starts. He looks back up a minute later, though to see what Dean thinks of the song. Dean seems to recognize the song, because he’s mouthing the lyrics, still standing beside the player, the record sleeve hanging forgotten in one hand.

 

_If I didn't care more than words can say_

_If I didn't care would I feel this way?_

 

Sam’s brother has an… odd sort of look on his face, very odd, and when the song reaches a certain line, it softens a little, almost crumples. 

 

_If I didn't care would it be the same?_

_Would my every prayer begin and end_

_With just your name?_

 

It’s not enough that most people would notice, but Sam isn’t most people. He knows his brother, knows him better than anyone.

 

And then he thinks back further, through years of Dean’s expressions and glances and the last time he’d caught Dean singing along to a sappy song. (what was it, Air Supply?) Thinks of the expressions on his face the times a certain person came back, how on edge he’s been, about how the person Dean had been trying to contact couldn’t exactly be reached through a phone…

 

And then Sam _really_ knows.

 

Dean catches him looking at him and the expression freezes, shuts right down. Dean yanks the needle up, stopping the music abruptly.

 

“You okay?” He asks.

 

“Yeah. Fine. Just… Crappy song. I’m going to bed.” Dean mutters, turning away.

 

Sam takes a deep breath, and says “He’ll be okay, Dean. He… He always is.”

 

Dean turns around, looking terrified, but plays dumb anyway. “Who?”

 

Sam answers with just one word.

 

“Cas.”

 

Dean’s expression crumples again, and he rasps. “You don’t know that. He could be…”

 

“ _Dean_.I know. But he’ll be okay. Everything he’s gotten through? He’ll be okay.”

 

Dean winces. “Don’t make promises, Sammy. Not about that.”

 

Sam sighs. “Okay. Just… keep praying. Let him know he’s got a home to come back to, okay?”

 

Dean shuts his eyes for a second, lets out a slow breath. “Will do.”

 

“Good night, Dean.”

 

“Night, Sammy.”


End file.
